My Pages

Sunday, 25 May 2014

“My son asked me if I missed work and I
replied that I missed the respect.” Jo Harris [Story]

These were the
words of a judge who lost her voice to motor neurone disease, first found ways
to cope through technology and sadly lost her life to the disease.

I heard her story
on BBC Radio 4 and decided to search
for information about her because there is something about the stories of
people whose lives have been changed so radically by debilitating disease that
more than basic adjustments need to made, that resonates with me.

Times of my life

In certain times I remember that my life now has a timeframe, BC and AC, Before Cancer and After Cancer, the man I was before illness and the man I became after the illness came and the radical way it changed my life.

As I have written
in many blogs before, as I lost my health, I lost position, status, possession,
things
and in some ways respect.

Much as I have had
a semblance of stoicism and maintained a sense of dignity, I might have even
been an object of sympathy
towards pity,
even to a point of ridicule
bordering on reproach,
yet like a child rebuked, I could not talk, and like a rascal disciplined, I
could not fight back.

Buffeted on many sides by adversity and perversity, I stood, maybe cried, but was never bowed, the spirit in said said, the indignities to the point of gross disrespect from rejections on the
flimsiest excuses at interviews to having
no place to lay my head for the night, but for the grace of God and the
amazing kindness and humanity of many, it shall all pass.

There was a
distinction in the prayers my father and my mother prayed when I called to chat
to them. She almost swore me to secrecy that the happenings in my life would
not be shared with him, but whatever animus they had between themselves I have
striven not to allow affect the relationship with my parents.

She prayed for recovery, he prayed for restoration, the prayers are being answered, the speed varying from miraculous to meandering, as a story of life unfolds in the experiences that have defined the existence I have lived, survived and thrived in.

No guilt would hold sway

I lost much, missed
much but regretted little as I told my clinical psychologist when she finally
accepted my case on being persuaded that I needed someone to chat to because I
did not exhibit any of the classic psychological or mental illness issues that
I should have presented considering my circumstances, I could not live in
regret when there were many blessings to count, little and large.

Maybe fundamentally
I refused to condemn myself in the things I allowed whilst the process of handling
guilt is still a process, if I cry over how much I have beat up myself,
eventually I must get to a point where this vicious circle of the inflicting
pain in the hope that some gain would arrive in recognition of my many
stupidities has lost its power to assuage my iniquities must stop.

I stand blessed

That is what has
won through, despite the external battles that seemed to have the upper hand
presaging defeat, internally in my spirit and in my mind, I decided, I would
not be overcome or overrun, and I would rise like a phoenix from the ashes of a
life and a lifestyle destroyed by illness because that is the core essence of
our God-given humanity.

Yes, I missed the
respect, sometimes the honour, but I remained respectful, honourable,
presentable, optimistic, striving, bettering, working, expecting, trying and
most of all living. In the process change has come with renewal, ability,
opportunity, recognition, some respect, some acknowledgement and some honour.

I am blessed and
with that every other care simply fades into insignificance.